Like a barnacle glued to a rock
She slept in her bed unrelenting,
Unconscious of each early call
After a weekend of merriment.
We drove for the train in Tralee-
Alrady the engine was throbbing:
A puff and hot tea on the platform
Before boarding to go to Cork city.
Going home on the road to Listowel,
The lights of North Kerry below me
Gave way to brillance of blue
That grew in the heavens above.
The eastern colours were spreading
Over the back of Stack's mountains;
I could see silhouettes of the trees,
The morning star shining so brightly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's like going on a journey throughout your precious Emerald Isle, enjoying this one hugely. This is gorgeous... HG: -) xx